Vines
by emilyyxo
Summary: He looked into her eyes, and she looked into his soul. They both had secrets they couldn't tell. Agent Natalia Mendez joins the BAU to help catch the sadistic sociopath that kidnapped her, and ends up finding a lot more. Casefic. Reid/OC. M.
1. Insanity

Hey. This is my first story I've posted so be gentle, please.

This chapter is from the POV of the unsub, but all the rest are from third person. If you think that's annoying, tell me and I'd be happy to change it to first person if you give me warning.

I don't own _**ANTHING**_ Criminal Minds, although if I had it my way MGG would be in my apartment reading this over my shoulder.

If you're** younger than 17**. you probably shouldn't be reading this due to violence, dark themes, language and lemons in later chapters.

But if you're older, **enjoy**!

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><p>Prologue<p>

In the Mind of the Unsub

My eyes fixated on her as soon as the polished gray doors gave way and stood open, giving me a full view of the woman behind them. A frigid breeze blew through the slightly cracked window causing me to tremble, but maybe it was the excitement, the thrill instead.

Had she known?

Had she known that I would be here waiting for her? I had been in this garage for what seemed like hours, listening to the sound of fingertips drumming against the smooth leather of the steering wheel.

She stepped out onto the smooth concrete of the parking garage. Her heels clicked with each of her long, confident strides, creating a rhythm that was familiar to me. Therapeutic. I felt safe. I felt her. I leaned my head back and allowed the noise to engulf my body, taking me back to the days when I was happy.

She was beautiful when she was with me and I was a genuine man when I was with her.

I let out a breath, shaky and uncertain. I would never even thing about doing something like this if she was still here.

A very universal ring-tone joined the echoing sounds and the woman reached around in her bag, finding her phone and finally flipping it open and greeting the person on the other end.

"Char? Hi. Yeah, I'm just leaving." her voice was mellow and smooth but tired. I glanced up at her through the windshield. He features we sad, her beautiful hazel orbs with wistful and rimmed in red.

Now she was cradling her cellphone between her cheek and shoulder clumsily as she bended at the waist to adjust the strap of her high heeled shoe.

"Nope, nothing." she huffed. "The family gave me practically nothing to work with. We've exhausted almost all of our leads. I'm gonna talk to Strauss tonight about sending the BAU to join us." Straightening up, she tossed her wavy, brown hair over her shoulder and chewed on her deep ruby lip.

My grip tightened on the steering wheel watching her. Something snapped and all remorse I felt for this girl flew right out of my body. I knew her type. She was no different from all the other women I'd met, that I'd hated. The paraded around like they were entitled to guy's attention. They thought that with a flick of their hair and a smile they could jump into bed with anybody they wanted, capturing unsuspecting hearts so they could crush and stomp all over them. My body nearly twitched in anticipation or rage or some sick combination of the two, I wanted to see her beg. I needed to see her on the brink of death groveling to me to let her survive. Because if I punished her, I'll be punishing Mel, and that's what she deserves, right?

Nobody deserved the pain she had inflicted on me and to rid the world of one more Mel, one more alpha female, I would be doing people like me a great service.

The woman placed a hand on her hip and sighed deeply into the phone. "Yes, I know but... what if we're in over our heads this time? Yeah, going to Strauss is going to be difficult at absolute best but we won't catch this guy without a proper team and you know that. Listen," she rubbed her forehead and breathed deeply. "I'm going to head home since technically it is my day off. Okay. I will. See you bright and early tomorrow morning."

She flipped her phone shut and tucked it into her skirt pocket. After fumbling around in her bag, a black Escalade's headlights flashed brightly twice in my rear view window and I unclicked my seat belt as she unlocked her car. I took one last quick look at the picture on my dashboard and in a blur, flew out of the car, not bothering to close the door. I was going to do this now and it was too much noise anyways.

I know she heard me, she had to, and even though he back was turned to me, she knew I was coming for her. But before she could get the safety on her gun off, she was out cold under the force of my hand. Her limp body fell into my arms and sagged with unconsciousness. I stroked her face and moved a lock of stray wavy hair away from her peaceful face.

"Oh, Melissa...honey, you're coming with me. And we can be together... finally."

And she was my Melissa. My new Melissa. And she was going to play this was going to play this role better than all the others. I just knew it.

And her life depended on it.

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	2. Her Need

Meh. I'm sick. Cheer me up and leave some feedback?

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><p>"Not to help justice in her need would be an impiety." -Plato<p>

"Hey, kid." Reid turned toward the voice just in time to have is bangs ruffled by Morgan's hand. There was no use in even starting an argument with him until he had his coffee and seeing as he was halfway done with his daily regimen, Spencer decided to silently continue to shovel sugar into his cup.

Spencer was thoroughly enjoying his rare and well needed weekend vacation. He had just been cleared to ditch his annoying cane as well as the embarrassing, but handy handicapped sign that swung in his beat up Toyota next to his FBI parking permit. Las Vegas was an incredible breath of fresh air, in the least literal sense, of course. Reid was able to to see his mother, which was a lot better than just sending letters, even if he did it everyday. Seeing as he was the one who subject her to being confined to the tiresome, yet expensive nonetheless mental institution, Spencer felt obligated to visit her whenever he was anywhere near Nevada.

Of course, visiting his mother and his childhood neighborhood would get a little tedious, so he hit a few casinos. After astonishing even the best gamblers with his skills of poker and blackjack and boring bystanders and hookers with the science behind it, he unwinded best in front of a TV with reruns of Star Trek and History Channel documentaries for most of the night. It was a scene from Morgan's wildest fantasies seeing Reid all nestled up in his bed, alone while surrounded by a hotbed of women, money, sex and overall sin would give him enough to tease the young man about for months. Which is why Spencer just expelled a deep yawn and tried his best to wake up.

"Aw, man," Morgan grinned, flashing his brilliant white teeth in Spencer's direction. "Don't be like that, kid. I'm just joking around."

Reid just rolled his eyes and dived into his mug. 'Mornin' Morgan. _Happy?_"

Prentiss sauntered into the break room and peeled off her coat.

"What's got him in a mood?" she teased.

"I'm not in a mood."

Rossi intercepted Prentiss and proposed to hang her coat. "C'mon, it's seven thirty and it's his first day back from Vegas." he waggled his black and gray eyebrows.

"I'm not hungover, either."

"So that's why you're wolfing down that coffee.." Prentiss cocked her head to the side, as if she were trying to figure out the _real_ reason Reid was already on his second cup of bad coffee.

"Prentiss. Now,I believe you, kid." Morgan bent back against the sink and crossed his arms. "If I had to come back to this job like this after getting it on with a cute girl all weekend, I'd be pissy too."

"Come o- really, Morgan? I-I wasn't 'getting it on' with anyone." Spencer felt the blush coming on.

"Shocker of the century." Emily feigned surprise.

J.J. poked her head into the break room. "New case guys. Be down in five minutes, okay? And don't bother getting your go bags. This one's close to home." In a flash she was gone, off to find Hotch.

Four minutes and a lot more taunting later, the whole team had made it's way down to the conference room. Rossi and Prentiss were engaged in a heated argument- completely in Italian. Reid was spinning slowly in his chair listening to Morgan talk about his weekend.

"This chick, she was perfect. Soft lips, curvy," Morgan leaned the chair back, furrowing his brow, remembering. "You don't find girls like that in Virginia anymore. Anyways, it took a few drinks to loosen her up, but once I flashed my badge, she was practically dragging me back to her apartment. And, trust me pretty boy, I'm still not fully rested."

Reid made a face at the thought as J.J. opened the door and Hotch followed. "Alright, everyone. Focus."

The blonde used her remote to turn on the monitor at the front of the room. "Good morning my curious, furry creatures." A perky Garcia adorned with bright yellow Pikachu clips in her blonde hair and bright lime colored polish in her nails appeared in her web-cam box in the corner of the screen. "Who's ready for a bright and early morning of blood, gore, and murder?"

"We're being called in by Strauss to assist Quantico's Special Unit Forces on a case."

"Special Unit Forces?" Prentiss raised both her eyebrows, floored. "They work cases?"

J.J. set a case file folder in front of each agent before returning to the front of the room. Then, hitting a button on her remote, pictures of three gory deceased girls materialized on the screen. Each photo was more gruesome than the next.

"Faye Garcia, Valerie Santos, and Sandra Ruiz. 19, 22 and 20. They were found on State 642 in the past week in Lake Ridge. Found faced down in ditches, shot one time through the heart. Also, blunt force trauma to the back of the skull and evidence of torture; cuts and bruises on the arms, bruising around the eyes indicate the use of blindfolds, and burn marks all over the body. "

"Ligature marks?" Rossi spoke up, eying the wrists.

"They were bound around the hands and ankles. All three of these girls were reported missing by family two days before being found. All of them were taken while running errands at night alone. At grocery stores and one at a 24-hour gym. Which is why we need to hurry. Another girl," this time, a girl with a big smile and bright green eyes flashed onto the screen. "Marina Garza was reported missing yesterday and if his pattern continues, she'll be dead tomorrow."

"We're looking for an incredibly sadistic man who cuts and burns his victims to get off." Morgan rubbed at his temples. "Any evidence of sexual abuse?"

"Thankfully, none," J.J. answered.

"Wait, J.J.," Reid flipped through the papers in the folder, "Garcia, Santos, Ruiz, and now Garza. Aren't those all surnames of Hispanic decent?"

"They are." Garcia answered. "I was going to bring up this point before the brilliant boy genius cut in. There is a significance to have three Hispanic victims in one week because," she typed a few times on her keyboard and three more victims showed up on the screen.

"Same unsub?" Hotch asked, only his eyes moving on the screen.

"I''m guessing. Same M.O. And they were dumped in the same area. But these murders, cue the dramatic music, were 18 months prior to the murders this week."

"And his victimology changed," Hotch pointed out. "Two white, one black. And the ages range from 17 to 34."

"What made him stop?"

"So maybe the murders prior to this were crimes of opportunity." Hotch went on. "Criminals like him are too smart to get caught for murder. They'll get arrested for petty crimes. It's a good possibility that he went to jail for a year and a half and now he knows what he's doing."

"How do we know we don't have a copycat?" Morgan asked, letting his folder drop onto the table.

"It's, uh, statistically improbable." Reid answered, a bad reflex of his, no matter how useful it was.

"That's right." Garcia shook her head. "I mean everything is totally lock tight. Plus, I ran DNA from both pairs of crime scenes, and the only sets that matched are a 99% match."

Hotch glanced up. "Did you run the DNA through Viacap?"

"Sir," Garcia smiled a bit, " your lack of faith in me is frightening. Yes. I ran it and this guy is squeaky clean. No criminal history whatsoever. And, I took the liberty of running through all the girls records and they check out completely. All good people, no record."

"Well, that's helpful." Prentiss sighed softly.

"We could try to find him based on his victimology-." Reid started.

"Victimology isn't going to get us far. He's a creep the fetishists young, pretty women. That narrows it down to about half the guys in this country." Prentiss snapped. The team gazed at her with startled expressions.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry."

"No actually," J.J. began, "she may have a point."

"What?"

"We're forgetting-."

Loud repeated knocks on the door caused the team to jump, startled.

"Hotchner? Agent Hotchner? I need to see you now!"

Hotch wasted no time, sprinting to the door with the rest of the team following him, their hands in their guns. Hotch opened the the heavy oak door. The pounding ceased and the man on a rampage froze. "Agent Hotchner."

The man was in a suit and looked as if he was into his 30's. He appeared to be just like the agents in the conference room, except he looked like hell. His eyes were bloodshot, his body was trembling and his sandy brown hair was disheveled, sticking up every which way. "My name is Charlie Hanover." he reached his left hand into his suit pocket and pulled out his FBI credentials.

"You're from the SUF," J.J announced, reaching out to shake his hand. "He's the unit chief of the base that requested us."

"Yes, I've been trying to contact you but Strauss has me on honorary leave. She doesn't see me 'fit' to work for now. I mean, no cellphone, no squad car, nothing. I had to pull some strings to get in _here_. Please, hear me out."

People that worked in the building were starting to take notice of the scene developing. Hotch cast a glance at his team and nodded towards the door. Once they we all back in the room, Rossi relocked the door and drew the blinds.

"Listen Agent Hanover," Hotch rubbed at his temples. "We've already agreed to take this case. I'm not sure how much more we can help."

"Just listen." he practically begged, walking back and forth in front of the team. "Strauss has got my new case on lockdown. Completely cut off. From me, at least."

"Your case?" Morgan asked.

"One of my agents is missing. She's been gone for 2 or 3 days now. Strauss says she has a unit out investigating but," he pulled in a ragged breath, "I'm worried."

"Well, it is understandable that another team is investigating your case. It's way too personal."

As the team watched, Hanover stopped pacing. "My agent is 22 years old and of Hispanic descent."

Agent Hotchner rose, breaking into Hanover's logic. "This fits victimology to a T. This is our case."

"And I also found this." Hanover handed J.J. a slip of paper.

"What is this?"

"I was doing research at home," Hanover disclosed guiltily. "And I stumbled across it in her email."

"Hey, Garcia?"

"Yes?" she replied, as she was also watching the scene unfold.

"I've got a site, I think." J.J. looked confused.

"Read it to me."

"http, colon, forward slash, forward slash, bit dot ly, forward slash, rmTOWd. Got it?"

"Yeah." Garcia mumbled over the screen. Her fingers were a lime green blur, aflare over the keys of her incredibly quick, government strength computer. "Oh, my..."

"Babygirl, what's going on over there?" Morgan asked, emerging from his seat.

Penelope gulped down a breath before turning toward the camera. 'It's a video streaming...it's..oh my god!" he hands flew to her face, covering her mouth.

"Garcia, show us." Hotch demanded.

"Okay," her voice rose with shock. She tapped a few keys and the video was displayed on the screen.

"Mendez!" Hanover shouted and pointed a finger as soon as the video flashed up in front of them. "That's her! T-that's her."

A woman in a worn white button down shirt and a torn skirt was the center focus of the shot. The room was dark, but a window about shed some light on the old, dusty, cobweb filled area. Her hands were handcuffed as well as her feet to the bed. She was weakly whimpering, flailing without progress to free herself.

"Garcia, can you find out where this video is streaming from?" Hotch asks as J.J. and Reid calm Hanover down.

'Sorry, sir." she shook her head as her hands blurred. "I'm doing everything I can, but he's got tons of fake servers and it's tripping me up. It could take a hell of a lot of time to pinpoint where he is."

Everyone's eyes returned to the screen. They watched helplessly as she shifted and they saw one of her sleeves ripped off and cut and contusions trailed up her arm. Thick, red blood oozed down towards her face. It was apparent that she's been beaten up pretty badly with blood trickling from her swollen lip and injured nose. A sudden bloodcurdling scream was enough to render the team silent and caused Garcia to turn her head and choke back a sob.

Hotch cleared his throat. 'Okay, I need everyone to regain focusing. Reid, join Garcia and do whatever she needs you to. J.J., Prentiss, I need you to talk to Hanover and find out anything he knows that could help determine where she is. Morgan, I need you to call Strauss and tell her we're taking Hanover's case-."

"Tell her? " Morgan rebutted, the skepticism crossing his face. Sure, he'd love to give Strauss a piece of his mind, but it was a fact that he liked his job and wanted to keep it.

"Morgan."

"But, Strauss-."

"Morgan, I work for Strauss. I do my job for the people who need me. If she has a problem with that, she doesn't need me here and she can deal accordingly when we finish. Now, Morgan."

To anyone else, it would seem that Hotch was being demanding, but Morgan knew. He knew that this is why Hotch was unit chief, the reason why he was in charge.

"Got it, man."

Hotch sat at the far end of the table and watched the video on the screen in front of him with his head in his hands. Rossi pulled up a seat next to him. "So what do we do?"

"We do our jobs."

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